Sleepless City
by Sulfur Dusk
Summary: AU - Rukia Kuchiki lives in Seireitei- a city that breathes corruption, is fueled by sex, and lives off of blood and money. She never expected to be tangled up in her brother's dark world of crime, and to find herself forcefully engaged to the mysterious Toushiro Hitsugaya. :HitsuRuki: :Preview of a could-be fic:


_**Sleepless City**_

_**- A story of money, blood, sex, love and corruption -**_

* * *

EDITED

Dedicated to all HitsuRuki fans. You guys are awesome.

* * *

**Chapter**

0**1**

_Statistics Never Lie_

* * *

**Subjected city**: _Seireitei._

**Population**: _649._

**Demographics**: _thirteen crime Divisions all run by the most powerful family bosses the city had ever seen, and several of which having to have resigned. The statistics were impossible to ignore, and not at all pleasing to any significant power's eye._

* * *

"Well, isn't this surprising," drawled a sarcastic voice that rivaled the laziness of a sun-tanning surfer. The glowing words flashed across the technological screen, like a declaration of something extraordinary. The information wasn't exactly new, and he was the person that had full access to these exact words twenty-four-seven. So why was he so puzzled? So strangled with wonder?

"What's surprising?" This tone was female, seductive in every way. The figure swayed from the darkness, lovely browning skin and sharp, intelligent topaz eyes showing ounces of courage and wit that surpassed many men of her generation. Locks of dark purple hair were swept up in a ponytail, flashing pearly teeth in the shadows. "You never say such things, Urahara." She smirked impishly. "Dimwit."

The blonde man wove his fingers together, observing his current findings with interest. "I'm sure the Gotei Thirteen would like to hear about this." He smiled slickly as the papers were printed, taking the objects and waving them tauntingly toward the cat-like woman in the background. "I'm sure you'd want to see this—"

"You're going to tell me anyway," she answered calmly.

The corners of his mouth twitched in hidden irritation. "Eh, true." He chuckled. "Well, it appears that more and more checkpoints are depleting from the Central Tower." He paused, glossing over the details with ease. "It's strange, seeing these Divisions crumbling in debt. Listen to this; even Jyuushiro Ukitake is suffering in debt. He lost over four thousand checkpoints."

The woman tilted her head to the side. "It will bounce back. These debts are easy to overcome, especially when you're someone like Ukitake. He knows what he's doing."

"Probably had the wrong Dealer." Urahara snickered. "Now, let's see here. Jyuushiro Ukitake, Shunsui Kyoraku, and quite a few others. How surprising. This drop is going to put a dent in their little business schemes, don't you think, Yoruichi?"

The female rolled her eyes in annoyance. They had known each other for many, many years; why he was so amused by the suffering of those powerful mafia families, she would never know. They had done nothing but benefit his research and send him generous donations on certain occasions; if they asked him for a considerable amount of checkpoints, he would probably have some, despite never killing anyone.

At least, not to her knowledge.

"Oh." His tone changed. Dramatically. A soft, unexpected shrill laugh escaped his clenched jaw, a moment of relaxation shared between the two of them in the confines of his study room. He leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet upon his office desk with an amused grin on his face. "This… _this_, I did not expect."

"And you honestly think you can catch everything. Not all of them are in debt; that would be impossible."

"Of _course _not all of them are in debt." Urahara pondered. "But this, this is news. This is priceless, something that I can't reveal to just anyone. I'm going to have to send out a few messages of interest to some people we know, Yoruichi." He shook his head in amusement. "Someone's been lacking in the blood-spill…"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

"Because." He smirked towards her over his shoulder, confidence brimming in those pale eyes. "One of the richest Division's checkpoint count just dropped to _zero_."

* * *

Frustration was not an easy emotion to convey without violence. Reeling back his trigger finger, the bullet flew with intense expectations toward the ringed target; a small hole, followed by a near-deafening _boom _bouncing through the glass-walled area. Silver tiles, just recently waxed, now bore the impression of those that lived there; these floors, walls and ceilings were constructed and owned by someone rich.

Someone prestigious.

"Um, maybe the count is wrong."

_Bam. Bam._

For once, he hoped that his rather lazy assistant was right.

She stood behind him, observing as he continuously clicked and emptied multiple expensive guns—as sleek and deadly as the money used to purchase them—without a word passing between his tightly clenched lips. She hoped she could help him. She wanted to help him; help him understand that he was definitely not alone in this determined, dark world that was Seireitei. Power slipped constantly between the fingers of those that ate, slept, and breathed wealth. He was not entirely greedy—he could accept some losses, but this… _this _was inescapable. Unavoidable.

And completely unfair.

"Besides, you're not the only one with this kind of debt!" The woman smiled, trying her best to remain optimistic. She was a tall, outlandishly beautiful woman with thick extravagant waves of strawberry blonde hair, lightly tanned skin and the figure of a supermodel. Seireitei's male population was quite fond of her, especially when she was dressed in certain outfits. Currently, she was donned in the Division colors of black and blue, her Headmaster's chosen shades.

"Actually, Matsumoto, I am," he replied, finally finding his voice after letting loose at least two hundred bullets into the well-worn targets before him. His temples were throbbing, and irritation was seeping through his skin like a second layer of sweat. He turned to the woman, who was still watching him with pouty lips and enlarged eyes. "What are you doing here? You should be—ugh… never mind." He rubbed his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

Matsumoto smiled. "I'm your Consulter! It's my job—"

"And, Matsumoto, _when _have you ever done your job?" Frigid teal eyes bore into her own ash-blue, and she found herself momentarily unsure. "Exactly." Usually, he wasn't this impatient. But stress was weighing heavily on his shoulders, and the recent broadcast of how each Division's wealth was ranked had pushed him into panic mode.

Zero checkpoints.

_Zero_.

His contracts weren't pulling in fast enough—that was only one of the problems. In order for Division Headmasters to earn checkpoints, they needed to complete as many contracts as possible. Basically, the more blood spilt and the more lives expended, the more 'points earned.

Just two months ago, Toushiro Hitsugaya was the third-richest Crime Division Headmaster in all of Seireitei. How could he have lost so much? The Dealers were probably responsible, with their bogus reasoning and desperate contracts with most of the Divisions. He recently heard Jyuushiro Ukitake losing four thousand checkpoints just several days before.

And it wasn't even the day where the Gotei 13 collected their promised _taxes_.

"Zero checkpoints can still go up! You can only go up, Toushiro. That's all you need to do." She slapped her hands together, grinning. "I think we should go out with the rest of your little Division buddies. Get a bite to eat. You're always cramped up in here, playing bullet-toss with… okay, it's not bullet-toss, but it has something to do with guns and I know that you're just being a total grumpy pants."

His left eye twitched. "Matsumoto."

"I'm just trying to help!" she sighed, her entire demeanor instantly softening. "Headmaster, please." She rarely addressed him by his title, even when it was his preferred form of address. He glanced over his shoulder, his hands firmly shoved into his pockets as he waited for her to continue. "The Dealers were asking for you earlier." She bit her lip as she watched his normally tired eyes grow wide with surprise. "They just called today."

He dipped his head slowly. He needed to remain composed. He was calm, cool, and very temperamental. He was quite used to meeting with Dealers, whether it was when the Gotei 13 were collecting their tax benefits, or when the Dealers themselves were trying to organize something out of their field. But this was different; this was planned.

He knew he was in trouble.

"I will see them when they arrive."

Matsumoto hesitated. "They're, um… well, he's kinda already here." She squeaked as he fixed her with a deathly impatient stare. "I was _trying _to get your attention, Headmaster. Sheesh. I couldn't flirt my way out of here, either. I tried to get them to leave and go somewhere else, but they _wouldn't listen_." She pondered, frowning deeply. "You're not hiding anything, are you?"

"No." He shouldered past her, plopping the box of guns in her unstable arms. "Put those in the weapon room. Tell Yuzu to restock them if she can, and do _not _leave the Estate while I have my meeting." He turned to her sharply. "Understood?"

She inwardly rolled her eyes. He was Mr. Grump again. "Yes, _Headmaster_."

He didn't even bother to scold her.

He then turned and exited the glass-walled room, slipping his black jacket off his shoulders and hanging it on a silver coat rack close to the doors that led to the previous area. He glanced around him, examining the simple coded colors of his Estate, before a chilling voice broke his concentration.

"Perhaps, we should get this over with, Headmaster Hitsugaya." The other man turned to him, expertly concealing his uncertainty. The Dealer was exactly how he appeared every time he visited this particular Estate: tall, dressed entirely in black while bearing the symbol of the Gotei 13. Sleek silver hair was cropped short and only gave him a more professional look, with a constantly calculating stare that would shiver any normal human being's bones.

But Toushiro Hitsugaya was not a normal human being.

"You're a month earlier than scheduled," Hitsugaya answered casually, knowing that it was October. Dealers showed up to the Division Estates on the fourteenth of November.

"I'm afraid that I was called a bit early. You heard about the new broadcast, correct?" The Dealer asked, folding his beefy arms across his chest. Hitsugaya hesitantly nodded, just as one of the smaller mahogany doors opened and a tiny blonde girl stepped from inside.

She was carrying a plastic laundry basket full of neatly folded clothing items, her own apparel boasting the Estate colors of black and blue. She blinked at the sight of the two men, and seeing her Headmaster with his clenched fists and narrowed gaze was not a good sign for her.

"Headmaster—"

"Matsumoto needs you now, Yuzu," Hitsugaya interjected sharply. He was firm with the child, and with that simple command, she disappeared around the corner without a second thought.

"That girl cost you four hundred checkpoints at the start of your business," the Dealer said simply. Hitsugaya's shoulders stiffened at the words, but only glared.

"And, you're here, because…?"

"I'm here because we have important matters to discuss, Headmaster Hitsugaya." He stopped, as if waiting for something. "Perhaps, you can show me to your office and we may talk of these terms in private?"

Hitsugaya's teeth gritted. "Very well."

* * *

"_Rukia_, you have to wear this dress! If you don't, your brother will have my head! And I really, really don't want to die today."

"My brother won't die—and _you _won't die—if I don't show up in frills and lace." Determined violet eyes widened, staring into the tiny woman's promising reflection in the full-length mirror before her. The glass still sported one of the several penetrating cracks from the heel of her assistant's shoes. Rukia hated getting dressed for these occasions, especially when her highly respected brother had a meeting to attend and actually wanted her present.

"But you would look so lovely," came the maid's tentative reply. The woman herself was the polar opposite of the Kuchiki, shaped entirely with voluptuous curves and innocence that molded the personality of a doll. Long hair spilled gracefully over her shoulders and toward the middle of her back like a stray orange river. Her fair skin was further accentuated by the rosy complexion of her cheeks, with pouty lips that would cause any man to swoon. She was the only person that Rukia trusted to touch her clothes, despite the many ladies that attempted to cater to her hand and foot.

Rukia's brow furrowed. She was most definitely _not _a princess; she didn't need to be assisted for such trivial, simple things like eating breakfast or being shoved into uncomfortable shoes. Why did her brother make her go through such exhausting rituals in the early morning?

"I don't understand, Orihime," Rukia muttered. "He never wants me to show up to his meetings. You know, the more _important _ones." She emphasized the word with every ounce of annoyance she held for the current situation; her brother hid many things from her, and his reputation as one of the most dangerous people in Seireitei was not one of those secrets.

Rukia's chest tightened at the thought. Her brother… the infamous Headmaster Byakuya Kuchiki, of the Shinigami Division 6; the image was still difficult to process. She knew he had killed hundreds, no, thousands of people in his young lifetime. In the mere span of twenty-five years, he had done what the other Shinigami Divisions could not.

Ever since she was small, she had gotten used to her brother addressing her as only his sister and that she was a member of the Kuchiki family. Apparently, the Kuchikis were a quite powerful influence in the world of corruption and crime that influenced the lifeblood of Seireitei. She wouldn't know; she only knew that it was a terrible place outside of her brother's Estate.

The Gotei 13 was the heart of each Shinigami Division—the Divisions holding the power of some of the most murderous families in the history of Seireitei. The Kuchikis were one of those families, and Rukia knew very little about the Divisions and the power they held over common citizens, but she did know that the consequences for those that disobeyed the Gotei 13 would face utmost disaster.

"Ms. Rukia?" Orihime questioned, the words soft as they slipped between her pouty lips. "Is something wrong?"

"Hm?" Rukia blinked, glancing around the small dressing room and the polished white bathtub, still drenched with soap bubbles and the scent of lavender. She was daydreaming again, thinking about matters that she wasn't supposed to worry about. She glanced over her shoulder, noticing the intense concern in the woman's soft brown eyes, and how the concern was so… _genuine. _Thoughtful. She had forgotten how emotional Orihime Inoue could be.

"Did I do something wrong? Oh no, I _knew _I chose the wrong dresses for you! Master Byakuya will be so furious with me!"

"Orihime," Rukia murmured, blinking in surprise at how skittish she was being. "Stop panicking." She managed a smile. "You didn't do anything wrong. Don't worry." She glanced over the clean sandstone tiles, observing the thick, expensive designs of blue and purple that were the remainder of the gowns. They boasted the crest of the Kuchikis, and Rukia was actually very surprised to see these emblems engraved into the sleeves. "What are these for?" She touched the symbol, her fingers smoothly running over the indentations in thought. Her brother would never usually allow her to wear something like this… as if she was a Division member.

She stiffened.

"Master Byakuya wanted me to sew them on. I hope it suits your liking," Orihime whispered, confusion suddenly overtaking her normally calm and kind aura. "Are you distressed, Ms. Rukia? Maybe you would like some tea to calm yourself?"

"No. No thank you." Rukia blinked. "I need to talk to my brother, though. Do you know where he is right now?" He wasn't at the Estate—she wouldn't have been left in Orihime's supervision if he were present. Normally he followed her around like a hawk, as if expecting her to do something out of the ordinary whenever he _wasn't _around. She was still too young and was not allowed to venture into the dark world of Seireitei, and whether she was thankful for this overprotection or not, she still wasn't sure. Even after seventeen years.

"No," Orihime admitted guiltily, twiddling her thumbs. Her heavily lacy outfit of white layers made her appear like a disheveled swan, especially with the growing worry in her doe eyes. "I don't think he wanted you to leave yet until you were dressed, Ms. Rukia." She gestured to the simple white nightgown slung over the Kuchiki's tiny, slender body. Her pale skin contrasted with the deep raven hair; much to Byakuya's chagrin, his younger sister would be perfectly fine striding into the open in her undergarments. She had no shame.

Rukia's eyes rolled. "Of course he wouldn't." Her teeth sunk into the flesh of her bottom lip. This was not what she expected; what could be happening with her brother right now? Was he finally involved in matters that he could not handle? Why would he not tell her? "Orihime, did he explain why he wanted the Kuchiki emblem sewn into these… um, lovely, gowns?" She stared oddly toward the hideous garments.

Orihime blinked. "No. He didn't say a word, just that he wanted the design to be sewn on the right sleeve, since you are right-handed. I didn't find anything wrong with it." Her gaze brightened for a moment. "Oh, wait! Maybe something special is about to happen. I don't really know that much about the Shinigami Divisions and their ways of maturing, but, Ms. Rukia, this could be wonderful. You never know."

Her optimism was comforting. Rukia slowly nodded. "Maybe you're right."

Maybe.

* * *

Eyes the color of molten steel penetrated like twin pairs of daggers toward their intended targets. Framed within an intimidatingly narrow face. with admittedly handsome features that natural mob leaders could only dream of possessing, Byakuya Kuchiki was a fearful person. Other than his rather unappealing personality qualities—as he rarely spoke during less important meetings—this engagement was called on behalf of someone that he did not expect to be involved for a long time.

"Your sister will be present, will she not?" Byakuya's jaw went rigid at the question, his patience with the Dealer already beginning to wither. Without a second thought, he lifted the porcelain cup to his lips and began to drink; hot tea was a small form of comfort in these meetings. They were never truly stressful, but they were annoying; Dealers were, by far, the most obnoxious people that Division Headmasters were forced to converse with. How could they be more infuriating than they already were? It was astounding.

"She will be," he answered simply, his voice carrying like finely woven silk. His stare was cool and calculating; demanding every inch of individuality that the person opposite of him could possibly have.

The Dealer shrugged, turning to his assistants with a lowered voice. "Perhaps, we should have this meeting another time? Drastic times call for drastic measures, and we're sure that she will be prepared for these moments to come."

Whether Rukia was prepared or not was… not the Dealer's business.

"Stop talking," Byakuya mumbled. The clock on the opposite end of his office was ticking in a ceremonial fashion; every ten minutes he would glance at the numbers again, just to be sure that his sister was going to be far later than he ever expected. She was not looking forward to this meeting, and she didn't even know what was in store for her.

He closed his eyes. He wasn't prepared for her upcoming hatred; regardless of their rather distant relationship, his sister was quite fearless in the presence of strangers, and her lack of communication outside of the Kuchiki Estate walls were not going to help her in her future rite of passage. This was an important day for his sister, whether she was expecting it or not.

"I hear your sister is quite beautiful."

Byakuya's attention was drawn forward once again. A protective growl rose within his sturdy chest, and he resisted the urge to simply send these Dealers out of his office. "We're not here to discuss of my sister's appearance. Only her fate."

The Dealer shrugged. "As you wish, Headmaster Kuchiki. I would never trifle with you." Even with such slick words, Byakuya was intelligent enough to know that these men could not be trusted. Not entirely. "But her beauty would contribute greatly to those that would be appealed by such things. Kuchikis have always been known to be very attractive."

Byakuya's lower jaw was set in a tight line. This man was treading on very thin ice. "Perhaps, you would like to keep quiet until my sister arrives, so that I do not make a grave mistake and snap your neck into two separate pieces." The threat hung thickly in the air, pressing uncomfortably against the recently refurbished rosewood walls.

"Of course not," the Dealer replied. Despite this, a twinge of fear was noticeable in his pale, aging eyes, like wrinkles in brand new paper.

The doors to his office opened, and Byakuya's lips parted. He wondered if his sister actually listened to one of her finest maids and dressed accordingly for the event.

His eye twitched.

Well, it certainly _was _Rukia, but not dressed in the manner that he'd hoped. She was wearing a long, silky white dress that clung to her modest curves and revealed even the tiniest traces of her figure, leaving nothing to any man's imagination. It blended nicely with her fair skin, her raven-black hair whipping about wildly like an untamed halo. More than ever, she looked _angry_; her emotional violet-blue eyes were extremely wide and practically pulsing.

The Dealer found himself quite surprised with how she looked. She was, by strange means, very pretty… but unruly, and was not at all prepared for this important meeting that was going to change the rest of her life.

His nose wrinkled.

Oh, so she was _sweating _too.

How charming.

Byakuya grimaced. His sister never liked listening to instructions. At _least_ she was wearing a dress. That was a step up from previous encounters with those of higher class.

"You must be Rukia Kuchiki," the Dealer muttered casually. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Rukia blinked. Why was he addressing her like they were equals? That had never happened before. Usually, she was called the Headmaster's sister, Lady Kuchiki, or just _the strange girl who never leaves her brother's Estate_. She stared over the Dealer, drinking in the details of his pinstriped suit and his fancy hair.

She instantly didn't like him.

"Rukia," her brother regarded her coldly. "Sit down. You're thirty minutes late." She had no choice; she quickly took a seat at the long wooden table that was set for usually much larger meetings. She was closer to her brother than usual, which surprised even her. He could be quite scary when he wanted to be, and when he was angry at her, she knew anything could happen.

He sent her a brief, icy glare before turning back to the Dealer.

Rukia inwardly rolled her eyes. She was going to be scolded for _weeks_.

"I'm glad you could finally show up for this meeting, Ms. Kuchiki." Rukia's attention snapped towards the Dealer, her brow furrowing. Who was this man? She'd heard of Dealers before, and their shady business with the Gotei 13, and how they were usually sent to the Division Estates ever November to collect taxes. But this Dealer was one month early.

"Discuss your terms, now that she is present," Byakuya said.

Rukia frowned. "Terms?" She'd never heard of this before. She folded her arms underneath her tiny bosom, glancing between the two men expectantly.

"As you know, Headmaster Kuchiki, the most recent checkpoint broadcast has revealed the intense decrease in contracts. Thus, several Divisions have gone, well… broke, for lack of a better word."

Rukia's jaw dropped.

_Broke?_

"I have heard of that, yes." Byakuya nodded, his expression remaining the same. Rukia stared at him in utter disbelief. This was complete and total news to her; how could this happen? Checkpoints were raked in with each contract sent through the families that ran each of the thirteen Divisions. What could have possibly happened for the checkpoint count to drop so extensively?

"The Banker, Urahara Kisuke, has sent our personal reports of those that are in the greatest debt. The Gotei Thirteen has collected those papers and sent the required Dealers out to let those in debt know of their recurring losses."

Byakuya's brow furrowed. "I am not in debt."

"Maybe so. But you have lost more than one thousand checkpoints. We've already double-checked the Banker's statistics. They don't lie, Headmaster Kuchiki. These statistics _never _lie."

"Your point?" Byakuya murmured. "If you're here simply to berate me—"

The Dealer held his hand up. "Patience, Headmaster. You know why I'm here. In the beginning of each Division's start, those of crime families form contracts with Dealers, and those contracts pass untouched through generations upon generations. A debt this bad hasn't occurred in over two hundred years."

Rukia's pupils dilated at the numbers.

"And… this where your sister comes into play." The Dealer flashed Rukia a crooked smile; a smile that sent uncomfortable chills up and down her spine.

She was not going to like this.

* * *

"Contracts?" Hitsugaya frowned at this word, absentmindedly shuffling through the messy papers in his drawer. On his spare time, he would have to remind Matsumoto to not leave her junk in his drawer—two of her lipstick tubes were uncapped and left trails of _Luscious Red _and _Pink Paradise _across his documents.

The Dealer nodded. "Yes. Contracts. I'm surprised that you, the well-known Division prodigy, has not heard of these yet." He smirked. "This specific contract was established by your great grandmother, Headmistress Hitsugaya." The short Headmaster blinked at this news; people rarely talked about his grandmother, as she was but a figure that blended in the shadows of Seireitei history. "Of course, you would have no knowledge of the deals she formed in signing this specific contract. Unlike the other contracts, however, this one was sealed with a very… interesting proposal, one that you must fulfill in order to repay your debt."

Hitsugaya stiffened. "Is there no other way to repay the Banker?"

The Dealer smirked. "You would have to sell your Consulter and your followers to the Banker to be distributed as unnamed street rats in Rukongai. Used servants are of no use to the more… fashionable, Divisions. I'm sure a smart man like you could figure that out in an instant."

Hitsugaya's fist clenched. He couldn't part with his followers. Not now; they had been loyal to him since the very beginning and he was not going to betray their trust. "… Fine." He resisted the urge to snort. "Then what are your conditions? What was written in this… contract?"

The Dealer leaned back in his chair, enjoying a brief second of silence. "Your contract was combined with the Kuchiki Estate." He removed a piece of old, yellowed paper from his pocket, slapping it onto the table before the prodigy. "Read the words carefully if you do not believe me. Your grandmother stated that, if the debt should occur, you would need to combine your Estate with another to secure the lost 'points."

Hitsugaya's eyes narrowed. "Combine my Estate. With the Kuchiki's." He shook his head. "I don't see how that would work."

"Well… you're in luck." The Dealer shrugged. "Headmaster Byakuya is a rather cold man, is he not? But he will do anything to keep out of debt as well, even when involving his sheltered sister."

Sister? In all of the Division meetings, Byakuya never mentioned a sibling of any sort. Hitsugaya felt his palms sweat with nervousness, leaning his elbows on the table as he tried to decipher what could happen next.

"How does his sister have anything to do with this?" He regretted asking the moment the words left his lips, because the smile the Dealer delivered was sickeningly amused.

"To combine your Estates, you must engage in matrimony with Rukia Kuchiki."

* * *

"_What_?" The word rasped from Rukia's lips, staring toward the Dealer on the opposite end in total shock. She stood up, pointing an accusing finger at his relaxed face, her entire arm shaking while she did so. "What do you mean? I-I can't get married! I'm not even an official member of the Division!" She turned to her brother, desperate. Pleading. "Nii-sama…" She was trying her best not to break in front of him. This was overwhelming.

"It is the only way to secure your debt. It will only make your benefits greater if you combine your Estates. Soon, new contracts will be provided and the Banker will need to provide a sum once your partnership is sealed." The Dealer seemed to smile—a ghostly, sadistic action that would have gone unnoticed if Rukia was some unintelligent squanderer.

But she was angry. Tears were pooling in those dark purple depths. The Dealer briefly found himself envious of the girl's future husband; she was absolutely _stunning _in her moment of fire and hatred.

It was one characteristic that ran through Kuchiki blood that never seemed to fail.

"I can't marry anyone. I _won't _marry anyone." She shook her head. "Why would you force us to do this?"

"Rukia."

She turned to her brother, her jaw slack in surprise. "But, Nii-sama—"

"Sit down." He hated talking like this; to say such words in a frozen, uncaring manner. He was doing what was best for the Kuchiki business and his sister. She had no idea how dangerous the dark world of Seireitei was, and with one of the most powerful, influential men in city history as her husband, he would worry less. There were too many pros to go against the small cons, even if one of those reasons to not accept the two hundred year old contract was big enough to tear his heart apart.

His sister was devastated.

She looked at him with uncertainty and betrayal. "Why?"

"You should sign the contract soon, Headmaster Kuchiki. You will not have a chance to later… if you do not, I will be forced to take your sister away for checkpoints. The Banker would be fine with either option."

Rukia's eyes widened. How were these the only two options?

But if she didn't agree, her brother would suffer, and his entire Division would crumble because of one missed contract. Whoever established such documents were not thinking over the situation entirely, and were probably not very skilled in that specific category. But she knew that she owed her brother many, many things, and that included her rights as his sister.

Marriage was the better option. She did not want to be cast into the streets for checkpoints, and even that amount would only settle in her brother's Division for several years. Before long, the debt would return and, without any contracts of his own to sign, he would suffer.

She inhaled shakily, her heart beating at an alarming rate. How could so much happen in such little time?

"You should do it," she whispered softly.

Byakuya, for the first time since she entered the room, locked gazes with her. She had never seen his eyes like this—they brimmed with such intensity that she couldn't tell whether he was inwardly happy of her decision, or disappointed. Either way, she knew she could not escape this inevitable fate.

"Then it is settled. I will alert the Banker and the Gotei 13. A pleasure seeing you again, Headmaster Kuchiki." The Dealer stood, taking a tentative bow with his hand over his chest. Rukia's eyes narrowed; the gesture seemed more mocking than respectful.

The Dealer stopped at the door. "Oh, and one more thing." He glanced over his shoulder. "She will be needed at the Selection House for preparation on her meeting with Headmaster Hitsugaya." And with that, the Dealer was gone, the sliver of light hanging from the doorframe being the only sign that he was ever there.

Rukia blinked at the name. Hitsugaya… It sounded familiar.

Byakuya stood from his seat, his suit slightly wrinkled from leaning against his chair for the entire conversation. The clock continued to tick an awkward silence fell across the room. Rukia felt the hairs along her neck and arms straighten in dismay, feeling oddly naked in her brother's quiet presence.

"Go back to your room, Rukia."

She couldn't protest. There was too much on the line, and she did not want to be responsible for Byakuya Kuchiki's nightly breaking point. She gathered her dress and left the room without another word, guilt hammering her chest like a dispatched fist.

She wondered if she did the right thing.

* * *

The Dealer left the Hitsugaya Estate more than forty minutes ago, and the prodigy was finding himself in the biggest situation of his life.

"Oh, it's not so bad, Headmaster," Yuzu whispered soothingly, a bowl of hot soup positioned in her mitten-covered hands. Her boss was sitting at his desk, his face buried into his hands and his unruly white hair standing in ruffled spikes. He was tired. She could feel the anxiety pulse from him like a second life force. "Headmaster…" Yuzu pouted in dismay. "Please eat something."

"I don't need to eat," he grumbled. "Marriage." He lifted his gaze, sighing. "I'm not a candidate for _marriage_."

"Maybe she'll be a nice girl," Yuzu offered, attempting to sound optimistic for his sake. Normally, that was Matsumoto's job, but she usually ended up annoying her boss rather than reassuring him. "Maybe even pretty. Do you know her?"

"I have never seen her." He frowned. Byakuya Kuchiki's younger sister was required to marry him. Unbelievable. "It doesn't make a difference." He had no choice. He was used to scribbling down answers for requests on dispatching certain people from the lives of the innocent, and the blood of hundreds graced his fingers. But _marriage_? It was a subject he was _never _trained to complete.

His servants, or, his followers, as he liked to call them, were actually inwardly pleased with this news. Matsumoto and Yuzu were the only ones who knew of the details so far, but to hear about their Headmaster being tied to a contract for marriage with another powerful Division was enough for them to have hope.

Hope. Hope for, well, maybe a time where their Headmaster would smile again.

Yuzu bit her lip.

Things would change.

* * *

**Hey everyone! So… I think some of you recognize this story, right? I published it a while ago, and I found that I wasn't happy with it because of just… well, my outline wasn't even finished and I didn't want to write fifteen chapters without a planned goal. NOW, I have a planned goal, but I'm taking more cautionary steps when publishing stories as of now. This is one of those fics that I really, really didn't want to erase completely. I love the idea so much, but I'm still not sure if I should continue it.**

**So I'm listing this as a preview of a "could-be" fic. Let me know if you think it's a good idea to keep this story up here and update it. I would love to complete it regardless, but I'm sure authors would like to have me spend time on other stories rather than focus on one that can potentially waste away… I mean, it's my decision in the end but I would love to have your guys' input. I want to expand on this world as best I can, and I have made edits to this chapter.**

**Also, if you're confused, here's a list that will let you know of the definitions.**

**Vocabulary**

**Shinigami Divisions – **Organized crime groups/families that have been run for generations upon generations. There are thirteen that populate Seireitei, and they have intense influence in all of the crime worlds.

**Banker – **Urahara Kisuke is the current Seireitei Banker. He's basically responsible for keeping the progress of all of the Division Headmasters in check, and if they do something wrong or if they're behind in raking in the 'points, they get a notification from him and he lets the Gotei 13 know as well.

**Dealers – **Dealers are mysterious characters that, as stated in the story, visit the Division Headmasters once every November to collect the taxes that belong to the Gotei 13 (usually for their funding and providing of contracts). Dealers are very suspicious and almost every Division Headmaster dislikes them. They are cunning and manipulative, and not much about them is revealed as of yet.

**Checkpoints – **Checkpoints are the main currency through crime organizations. Instead of physical money, checkpoints are distributed through the Banker and through contracts. As mentioned, people like Matsumoto and Yuzu, who were not born into the crime families, can be purchased with a checkpoint price from the poor districts that surround Seireitei. In this universe, checkpoints mean everything, so if you're broke, you're screwed. Unless, in this case, you get married. Haha. Joke. :P

**Consulter – **Consulters are the right hand men/women of the Headmasters/bosses, and have much more freedom than the average individual. For example, a Consulter can walk about freely as long as the Headmaster knows about it, but this privilege is usually not available for lesser employments, like, say, Yuzu. Yuzu is just a regular servant (or follower).

**Contracts – **This is one definition that I left out the last time I published this story. Contracts are, as they're named, contracts. Literally, that's what they are. But these contracts are delivered through private contacts and the Divisions decide what they want to do with them or not. The contracts are basically requests for assassination. So, basically, the blood of the victims that are spilt lead to checkpoint earnings. It's a dark system… but that's what the mafia is all about. Blood and money.

**Please review guys. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and I had a lot of fun writing it. Hopefully this vocabulary helped in understanding the first chapter a little bit more. I hope you liked it. Constructive criticism and suggestions are always welcome!**

**Thanks for reading! **

**And remember to vote on my poll! :)**

**~ Dusk**


End file.
